The Ultimate Sin (Sins of the Past 2)

Chapter One

Angelo

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.

That was how it all started.

With my father. Her father.

Their sins. Our sins.

The sins of our past.

We couldn’t escape them as much as we could avoid falling for each other, crashing and burning at love.

Our love could break us.

Their power could destroy us.

But I would die trying.

She would die fighting.

My jaw clenched in anger, the pain of losing Gia almost unbearable. I fought the tears, kept them at bay. I wouldn’t allow them to win.

The men who took her would pay.

Blood would be spilled.

Lives would be shattered.

I vowed to end them. All of them.

Gia was mine. No one took what belonged to me and lived to tell about it. I would end her suffering and take their lives as payment for their sins.

Revenge was a long, dark road paved in the blood of others. There were no winners in this dangerous game—only survivors.

Chapter Two

Gia

I was two seconds away from losing my mind. The walls were stark white, so bright they reminded me of freshly laid snow, covered with padding about three inches thick. Fluorescent lights were hung overhead, the bulbs so intense they made my eyes burn. I clawed at the material on the wall with my nails, unable to tear through the hard coating that encased me in my prison.

When I awoke in this room, I thought I was in a mental hospital. Sometimes, I thought I was dead and in purgatory, waiting for the devil to take me to hell. My place was already reserved next to Angelo, right at the devil’s table. I wished for death. I hoped someone would end my imprisonment. But I wanted my revenge more.

It was hard to keep track of the days. I had hoped for my sake my kidnapping was all a dream, something I’d made up. I wasn’t crazy. Maybe I was crazy in love with my blue-eyed boy, but still sane enough to know I didn’t belong in an institution.

I felt around the room with my hands, searching for a door or a window, any form of an outline which could lead to the outside.

Hell, I would have settled for a motherfucking crack.

Anything.

Desperate to escape, I dropped to my knees and patted at the edges of the perimeter. I made it halfway around the room, on hands and knees which were now dirty, when I heard a robotic movement coming from behind me. Confused, I glanced over my shoulder. Was I losing my mind? I’d been in that room for far too long.

Convinced I was insane, I got back to work, scooting along the cold floor. Looking for a loose linoleum title or something to pick at, I stopped moving when I’d heard it again. In the far corner of the room was a tiny black circle I hadn’t noticed. I was too busy looking for a way out to consider I was being watched.

I slid the plastic chair in the corner of the room from one side to the other. Using the wall for support, I gripped the chair back with my other hand and pushed myself onto it. I wasn’t sure when I’d last eaten, but my stomach rumbled with hunger pains.

Waves of nausea swept over me as I tried to find my balance. If I was going to find a way out of this place, I needed my strength. They dumped my lifeless body on the bed and left me like a sack of garbage. I had no clue how many days I’d been out cold. No concept of time. All I knew was I needed to speak to the person who was holding me as their prisoner.

With my hand on the wall, I looked up at the small camera. “Let me out of here, you sick piece of shit,” I yelled so loud it hurt my ears, my anger shaking right through me. “He will come for you. If you as much as touch a hair on my head, he will kill you.”

My mouth was dry, my tongue rough like sandpaper. I created as much as spit as I could and hocked a loogie at the camera, some of it splashing on the lens, the rest hitting the wall.

Fuck them.

And fuck this place.

No one could cage me but Angelo, and even with him, that was debatable.

I waited for a sign that someone was watching behind the camera. They had the sense to move it to see what I was doing. Someone had to be hauled up in a room, shoving cannoli down their throat and lau

ghing at my failed attempts. Motherfuckers.

I hopped down from the chair, my body so weak I almost tripped over my own feet. My eyelids were heavy, still fighting sleep. I crashed on the twin-sized bed pushed up against the wall and sighed.